


Boiling a Frog

by BrandyFromTheBottle



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Cock Rings, Dark!Ford, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, Gaslighting, M/M, Manipulation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possession, Smut, billstanwich - Freeform, how the fuck do i tag shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 03:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13262502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandyFromTheBottle/pseuds/BrandyFromTheBottle
Summary: Bill asks for an inch; Ford gives him a mile.orBill fucks and fucks over the boys.





	Boiling a Frog

“ Where’s your brother?” Bill asks, sipping from his cup of tea, eyelids puckering in a way that had disturbed Ford at first but he now finds endearing. Ford glances back down at his projected page of notes, scribbling equations as they flit past his head. He can’t catch all of them, but Bill says that’s for the best. It’ll keep his mind sharp to fill in the blanks.

“Work, probably.” Ford says, frowning at a lemniscate that seems out of place. He fixes it and chews on the end of his pencil. Bill hums, thoughtfully.

“He always seems to be working, doesn’t he?” Bill says, floating to look over Ford’s shoulder, one small, slender hand of pure energy resting like a friendly static field. Ford looks at Bill curiously.

“Ah, yes. It keeps him busy.” Ford says fondly, remembering the first months when Stanley had moaned about boredom until Ford had all but shoved him out of the house to find a job. Bill hums again, reaching a finger out to switch a few equations around into something that ignites Ford’s mind like a flint to gas. “Of course!” He exclaims and starts to scribble furious on a new page. Bill chuckles, indulgent but never condescending. 

“You haven’t told him about us, have you?” Bill asks, floating away, leaving a tingle on Ford’s shoulder. Ford looks up with a frown.

“Of course not. Why would you ask that?” Bill shrugs.

“The extra hours, I thought he was avoiding ya.” Bill says. “I’m probably wrong. Humans are so tricky!” Bill floats up into Ford’s space until he’s forced to lean back. “Might be why I like them so much.” Ford flushes under the implied compliment. “Now! About the fuel source. Have you heard of Northwest Labs?”

* * *

He’s doing his best to tear Stan to pieces, all twelve fingers digging into Stan’s hairy shoulders, clawing at his broad back. Stan moves like the waves crashing beside the Stan-o-War, undulating and rhythmic and driving Ford insane. He pants in Stan's ear, whispering and urging him faster while meeting each of his torturous thrusts. It's not enough and Ford feels like he's going crazy.

“Please,” he begs, fingers scrabbling against the sweat slicked surface of Stan’s skin. “Stanley, please.”

“Ya really like this, huh?” Stan says, jovial and curious.

“Yes,” Ford breathes, looks up at his brother and yelps. “Bill!” 

“Hiya!” Stan’s face grins down, ridiculous hair falling in sweaty strings, framing his rugged face and the bright, yellow eyes and gleaming grin. Ford sputters, Bill-Stan still moving in that maddening rhythm.

“Wh-what are-- _oooh_.” Ford groans and his hands spasm as a thrust hits him just right. “ _Uh,_ Bill, s-stop.” The body in him stills and Ford moans, the unmoving fullness almost worse.

“What's wrong, Sixer?” Bill-Stan asks, head cocking and it's strange to see Bill’s mannerisms on his brother. It's enough to make his dick start to get soft. “Aw,” Bill-Stan reaches between their bodies and grabs Ford's cock just a little too roughly. “It's gettin’ all floppy.” He gives the cock in his hand a little shake.

“Bill!” Ford grunts and pushes himself onto his elbows. “Bill, what are you--get off.” He shoves at the Bill-Stan. Bill-Stan shrugs and pulls out too fast and Ford hisses. 

“What gives, IQ, we were having fun!” Bill-Stan pouts, kneeling on the planks of the uncompleted Stan-o-War and now that Ford thinks about it, this is obviously a dream.

“You can't just do that, Bill.” Ford says, scandalized and indignant. 

“We were having fun, right?” 

“Well, I thought you were Stan!”

“Do ya want me to act like him?” Bill asks and suddenly instead of the hawk-like, razor scrutiny and cat-like curiosity Bill-Stan loosens into Stan’s familiar slouch, Stan’s easy smirk and heated gaze. It's Stan crouching in the sand, wet cock lurid between his spread thighs, one hand reaching down to jack languidly. “I can be whatever you want, Ford,” Bill-Stan purrs.

“Bill, no, that’s--that’s wrong.” Ford stutters, but finds himself unable to look away when Bill-Stan groans, thumb pushing at the slit and bringing the wet precum up to his mouth, sucking the finger and making obscene, slurping noises.

“It’s not like you're cheating,” Bill-Stan says, smearing the wetness down Stan’s chest and over one of the taut nipples with a low hum. “Besides,” Bill-Stan drops to his hands and knees, crawling over into Ford's space until they're inches apart. “I could show you things. Give you something to bring back to good old Bruiser. A thank you for his,” Bill-Stan leans impossibly closer, breathing against Ford's slacked lips, “hard work.” Ford feels a shiver start at his tailbone and coil in his gut. “Would you like that?” Ford nods dumbly and Bill chuckles. “Then I'm going to need you to pay close attention, Sixer. We’re going to rock his world.”

 

“Damn, Sixer,” Stan pants, looking at Ford with awe. “Where'd you learn to do that?” Ford curls into his brother, carding fingers through his rough, sweat damped chest.

“I had a dream.” He says.

“You should have more.”

* * *

Bill still teaches Ford; still shows him how to build the portal. But sometimes, Bill saunters in wearing  Stan’s body and shows Ford something amazing and new that has Ford waking up hard and leaking which leads to him rousing Stan for a midnight romp in the hay that has Stan dazed and happy, even if he's a bit grumpy come morning.

It goes on for months until one day Bill stops mid thrust and just huffs.

“Nope, can’t.” He says and pulls out. 

“What,” Ford pants, confused and painfully empty, “what's wrong?” 

“Not enough.” Bill-Stan crosses his arms with and unhappy scowl. “Looks so much better with a real body.” He grouses.

“You've never?” Ford asks, genuinely surprised. Bill-Stan snorts.

“Not everyone's as open minded as you,” Bill-Stan gives Ford a fond look that has him flushing. Bill-Stan sighs. 

“Well, I mean,” Ford chews his lip. “You could, that is, if you think you'd like to…” Ford clears his throat. “If you're careful, you could. Stan wouldn't know.” He says in a rush and then cringes. Bill-Stan looks at him, shocked and then pleased. 

“You'd do that, Fordsy? You'd share?” Bill-Stan grins at him, almost giddy, like Ford has given him a gift. Ford nods.

“You've done so much for me it seems...right.” Ford says, nervous and shy but determined. Bill-Stan leans into his space.

“I'll make it good for him,” he promises, giving Ford a peck on lips.

 

Ford wakes up to Stan beneath him, trembling through the aftershocks of an orgasm. 

“G-good?” Ford asks, voice rough. Stan just pants desperately and looks completely smitten.

* * *

“ I was thinking the enchantment for the runes, what if we enchant the alloy--”

“Do you wanna watch?” 

“W-what?” Ford sputters. Bill looks at him, eye narrowed slightly,  calculating. 

“I was thinkin’, it ain't really fair, you not gettin’ to see Stanny-boy’s ‘o’ face. And, boy,” Bill leers at Ford, making him blush, “Sixer, it’s enough to make your eager cock cum twice.” Ford chocks on air, bright red with warmth in his face and gut. 

“I-I...I’m n-not--”

“Hey, relax. It's your body anyway. Dontcha wanna see what I can do with it?” Bill drifts closer, those electric fingers gentle on his cheeks.

“I-I suppose it couldn't hurt.” Ford says and Bill beams.

“Perfect.”

 

Stan is a  _ mess _ . He’s keening, high distressed noises and there are tears like small crystal shards wetting his lashes. He’s shaking from the effort of holding still, Bill-in-Ford’s-body shushing him gently.

“ You’re doing so good, Stan, so good for me.” Bill does something with his fingers that makes Stan howl. His toes turn and his hands spasm where they’re digging into his own thighs, holding them open. The belled cock ring jostles and Bill freezes but there’s no sound. “So good, taking it. Taking it  _ for me _ .” Ford sees Bill slip the fifth finger into Stan’s loose, red hole. It’s strange to watch such a salacious scene without the stimulus of a body; without hormones and neurons firing like lightning. He isn’t aroused physically, but he can’t stop the fascination; the way Stan’s sweating brow and rolling eyes and lolling tongue arouse something in his mind he’s never been aware of. It’s intoxicating like a breakthrough. 

Stan breaks with a wail and thrusts down on those fingers as they twist. The gentle tinkling of the bells is almost lost in the noise but Bill freezes immediately and sighs like he’s disappointed.

“You were doing so well, Stan.” He says and pulls out slowly. Stan sobs at the loss.

“God, fuck, no, I’m sorry. Ford, please. _Please._ I’m sorry, I’m _sorry._ ” Stan is crying now, frustrated, overstimulated tears glazing his cheeks. Ford wants to reach out and touch them.

“ You’ll do anything to cum, won’t you.” Bill states with a gentle stroke down Stan’s trembling thigh. “You’ll do anything for me?”  
“ Yes. Yes, anything, Yes, just please.” Stan begs, hip twitch, little musical notes jingle with each subtle thrust.

“You have to say it, Stan. Say: ‘I’ll do anything for you if you let me come.’”

“Ford, Ford please. I-I can’t. I’m gonna die.” Stan SOBS, gasping for air. Bill stills Stan’s hips with one hand and grabs Stan’s dick with the other. Stan cries. “Say it.”

“I-I’ll d-do anything, fuck, oh, _God_ , please, a-anything j-just let me cum.” Stan stutters, words broken by his trembling breaths. Bill shrugs.

“It’s a deal.” He grabs the cockring and slowly, torturously pulls it up and off of Stan’s swollen, purpled dick that makes a part of Ford wince. Stan’s been on edge so long he just trembles as Bill slides light, teasing fingers down his dick and over his balls. Bill doesn’t even get back to Stan’s hole before Stan is keening as he comes, long and hard, whole body shaking with it. When it finally stops, Bill lines Ford’s dick up with Stan’s hole and fucks into him. Stan cries out, shakes his head as Bill fucks fast and hard. 

“ F-ford, please, not-- _ uugh _ .” Stan breaks down into “ _ uhs, uhs, uhs. _ ”  He looks like he’s in pain. Bill quickly finishes and Stan shudders a last time when Ford’s dick is pulled from from Stan’s body. Bill lays next to Stan and this is usually when Ford enters the scene, but this time Bill just lies there. When Stan is finally composed he scrubs at his face. “F-ford, I don’t think...I don’t think I could do that again.” Stan confesses, voice still watery.

“Not tonight,” Bill agrees and starts to pet Stan’s sweat-wet chest. Stan shakes his head.

“No, Ford, that was...that was a lot.” Bill pushes up so that he’s leaning over Stan.

“That’s why I love you, Stanley,” he says, kissing Stan slow and gentle until Stan starts to melt, exhausted. “You’ll do anything I ask of you.” 

Ford is tucked back into his body as Stan returns the kiss. He feels sore and spent, but he doesn’t mind the pliant body of his brother underneath him.

* * *

Bill doesn't so much betray him as reveal the punchline to a joke Ford didn't know about. It doesn't upset him as much as it should. 

“What have these people ever down for you, Stanford?” He asks as Ford fumes, tearing down pages and pages of notes. Bill stops him with a small black hand of static. “What had the world done for either of you?” Ford does pause at that. 

“I won't let you destroy the world, Bill.” Ford snarls, pages crumpling in his fists. 

“And I won't,” Bill soothes. “I’d never hurt you or your brother. I think of you as mine.” And Ford shivers, a primordial fear gripping him and deep, deep down, a sense of longing.

“It’s wrong.”

“There’s a lot wrong with the world, IQ.” Bill says with a dismissive snort. 

“I can’t.” Ford says, small and broken. Bill pats his back.

“ No one said changing the world would be easy. But the world needs changing, Sixer. And you could change it. I can make you better, Stanford. I can give you  _ everything _ .” Bill says and Ford believes him.

“Stanley,” he whispers. 

“Loves us. He’ll do anything for us, Ford. I made sure of it.” Ford nods, hesitant. Bill beams, excited as a puppy. “Great! You won’t regret is, Sixer! You, me, Stanley! The world at our fingertips. What’d ya say?” Bill holds out a hand. Ford stares at it and shakes his head. He grabs it.

“ You, me, and Stanley. It’s a deal.”

 


End file.
